Chapter Twenty-Eight
Priscilla reached up and lifted the gleaming brass knocker, letting it hit the plate; the sound it made was almost too much for her wound up nerves. The act of pulling her gun on the rowdies, along with Noah's talking and speaking about the massacre, had left her off balance. It wasn't long before the door opened, and as she peered into the front hall her eyes went wide with surprise. An oriental man in a black Chinese styled coat opened the door, bowing to her.
Priscilla peered around him and discerned a front hall extravagantly done in red brocade and gold fixtures. The effect was tawdry in the light of day, but she was sure that at night it would look opulent. Her thoughts on the décor though were broken off by the reaction of the oriental man to her presence. He lunged toward her, his long braid making a swishing sound against the black silk of the high collared jacket.
"Master Noah! Master Noah! What happened?" The Asiatic man wasn't much taller than Priscilla, but he knew how to appear fierce as he hurled his questions at her. Priscilla stiffened her spine, as she clutched Noah tight against her. Granny Elspeth had told her many stories about the Far East, and Priscilla knew that appearing to be intimidated was a sign of weakness in the oriental culture.
"I am bringing Noah to his grandmother, Mrs. St. Romaine; he has been badly hurt." Priscilla elevated her chin and forced herself to look directly at the houseman, which is what she assumed the man was. The oriental man, she sensed, was studying her carefully, even as he was trying to see what the matter with Noah was.
"I am Chin Lee, Houseman of the establishment." His reply confirmed Priscilla's assumption of his status. She was glad she'd been right about that, and also relieved that he knew Noah. "Please, come inside and I will fetch Madam..Mrs. St. Romaine." He quickly amended his lapse, bowing again as ushered the twosome into the entry way.
Priscilla was relieved that the fierce looking man had acquiesced to her request, even as she was taking in her surroundings. The red brocade and velvet were heavy; the gold fixtures appeared cheap and too bright. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the front hall, she looked off to her right, where an arched doorway framed an entry to a front parlor.
The parlor was all red and gold, but Priscilla hardly noticed, being too busy taking in the occupants of the room. Four young women, two around her age, and two slightly older, regarded her with undisguised curiosity, making Priscilla feel – yet again – wide eyed with surprise. The women were in what Priscilla saw as their underclothes – fine quality, expensive ones.
The undergarments were made from soft glowing silks in rainbow shades, with dyed lace to compliment the ribbons and bows that decorated them. If the undergarments were not French in origin, they were definitely French in style. When she'd been shopping with Hester, in Denver, Priscilla had seen items such as these. She had noticed how different they were than her undergarments, of fine lawn trimmed with white lace and pale satin ribbons. Priscilla had discerned that married women – and undoubtedly their husbands – preferred more luxurious and revealing designs in their undergarments.
These women though, Priscilla was sure, weren't married, and what kind of woman sat around the parlor undressed like that? She felt herself flushing, as she took in how they were so casual, almost sprawling on the furniture. She also felt their scrutiny, even as she was noticing how made up the women's faces were, almost like actresses.
That thought, about actresses, caused an idea to form in her mind, as to what this place probably was. Priscilla had heard whispered conversations among married ladies about houses of ill-repute, and the women who worked there. As much as she wanted her assumption to be wrong, she doubted that it was. The horror she felt, for Noah living in that kind of establishment, made her remember that she was holding him tight.
Even as she was ready for the floor to swallow her up, because of her presence in a house like this, a commotion from the hallway caught her attention. A tall woman, with flaming red hair, wearing a blazing scarlet dress was rushing into the entryway. Priscilla was taken aback at the arrival, even as she noticed that the woman was older than what she'd first thought. However, Noah's reaction had Priscilla's heart in her mouth.
"Mimi, Mimi!" Noah hurled himself out of Priscilla's arms and into the embrace of the tall, red-head in the garish dress. Priscilla took a closer look and noticed that Noah's hair was an exact copy of the woman's, as were the green eyes they both shared. It was clear that they were related, and it dawned on Priscilla that Noah's grandmother was not an infirm elderly lady.
Priscilla now realized that Jarrod had lied to her from the beginning about Noah's circumstances. She felt her heart wrench, as she contemplated his almost treachery in the dealings with her and the school. Noah started to cry just then, and Priscilla realized she would have to put her anger and hurt at Jarrod aside for now.
"I am Miss Converse the school teacher. I came upon Noah being beaten up by some older boys, in the park by the Riverwalk." Priscilla stood up tall, as she turned her attention to the red-headed woman dominating the hallway. "I presume you are Mrs. St. Romaine." The look Priscilla gave the woman was a cool one, wanting to make her position in the community clear.
"Call me Maisy." The woman replied, as she scooped up Noah and cradled him in her arms. "Chin Lee go tell Buford and Sadie to get hot water and rags, along with some tea. Also, go get Rosemary and have her come to Noah's room, with her bag." Priscilla noticed that Chin Lee left right away to do Maisy's bidding, and she was left wondering whether she should slip out quietly right now, and hope that no one has seen her.
"Miss Converse – do you have a first name?" Maisy's staccato voice pierced the fog that had seeped into Priscilla's head. "Come with me, if you don't mind. You can help me get Noah settled; he speaks highly of you." That answered the question that Priscilla had been wondering about, and deciding that her student's welfare came first, she followed the red gowned woman down a back hallway. She wanted to see just what kind of circumstances Noah lived in.
The hallway led to the rear of the house, which had a very different feel than what the front part was. The Turkish rugs were the same, along with the wainscoting, but the walls were painted a dark blue, while the sconces and lights were of much more elegant style. Priscilla noticed the fine quality of the mahogany furniture interspersed with pieces of French style design. Even as she was trying to reconcile the differences in her mind, Priscilla heard the older woman talking to her.
"Do you have a first name? I don't think it is Miss!" The red-head woman observed, as she tilted her head. Priscilla noticed the fine lines around the eyes that the paint didn't quite hide, but she was sure that in the light of a drawing room, the appearance was young looking. She remembered the notes she'd exchanged with the woman, the impression always being of a loving, caring grandmother.
"I would prefer to stay on a formal basis, Mrs. St. Romaine. We have corresponded with each other over the last several months." Priscilla knew that no good would come of her being on a first name basis with a woman who ran a house like this. Noah was her student, and this woman was his grandmother; that had to be the only relationship they had. However, she did have a secret chuckle at why the woman had wanted Noah to call her Mimi, and not Grandma! Mimi was no one's idea of a grandmother, but then she remembered her grandfather telling her that family love came in all shapes and sizes.
By now they were in what was clearly a boy's bedroom, with the furnishings being done in simple wood. The covering on the bed was a patchwork quilt of muted tones, which echoed the rag rug on the floor. Priscilla noticed the fine writing instruments on the desk, as well as a small bookcase that was filled with a jumble of books. She had to admit that at least Maisy, using the name just to herself, showed good judgment in giving Noah a comfortable room for a young boy. If only it wasn't in this house, Priscilla added to herself.
The next several minutes were spent with Maisy and Sadie attending to Noah, whose color had started returning to his face. Priscilla noted how kind and loving the red-headed woman was to her grandson, as well as to how attentive the servants were. It came to her that Noah was obviously adored and cared at his Grandmother's house, even if it was a house of ill-repute. Love knows no bounds, as Grandfather Henry had often counseled.
"Miss Converse?" Noah's voice broke her inward observations, and she came over next to him lying in his bed. He reached out for her hand, and finding it grasped it tightly. "Miss Converse, I did what Col. Kelling wanted; I kept quiet when the Indians attacked. He pushed me into a hidden passage, behind his quarters." Priscilla understood that Noah was telling her about the final hours at Ft. Endurance, and how his beloved tutor had saved him, even at the sacrifice of his family.
"Noah, Col. Kelling cared about you very much! I know too that your father only wanted the best for you – which is why he let his commanding officer teach you." Priscilla was drawing on the slight bit of military knowledge she had, from when Grandfather Henry had filled in as Military Chaplain to the garrison at Los Angeles. She hoped that Noah would grasp the obvious points of reference she stated, to help him.
"So I did the right thing, by following orders? My Pa was a top notch solider, and I just wanted to make him proud." Noah replied, feeling comfortable in talking to Miss Converse about everything. He could see that she understood his world – or rather the world he'd known until half a year ago.
"Your father was a very brave man, and Col. Kelling trusted him greatly." Priscilla saw that Noah was trying to reconcile what had happened at Ft. Endurance, and his life. "You did nothing wrong, and both your father, and Col. Kelling strove to protect you. That means that you are blessed by the Holy Spirit, for surviving the attack. The Lord has great things in store for you, Noah, and you need to be strong enough to grasp them."
Priscilla drew on Granny Elspeth's comments, when she had discussed Noah's situation during Christmas break. Noah had been spared for a reason, and he needed to understand the great gift he'd been given. Priscilla also hoped that the Lord was looking out for Noah, as he lived in this house of sin. She was trying to think of what to say next, when Maisy's started talking.
"Noah, you are so special to me, the only child of the only child I had. Your mother was beyond perfect, and everything I did was to protect her." Maisy looked softly at Noah, holding Priscilla's hands, and couldn't help but smile with happiness. It came to Priscilla that the woman in the scarlet gown, long ago, had had a very different life than what she did now.
"Miss Converse is right, about how you were spared for better things. I never met your father, but my sister – your aunt – spoke highly of him. Always be proud of that." Noah shuddered, as a wave of fear and exhaustion left his body. Before Maisy or Priscilla could say anything else, someone else entered the room.
The person was a tall, beautiful woman, with glowing reddish gold hair that framed patrician features and a creamy complexion. Priscilla admired the woman's large hazel eyes, even as she was noticing how the eyelashes had been darkened to accentuate them. As she looked more closely at the newcomer her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't the green silk dressing gown the red-headed woman wore, nor the small leather bag she carried; rather it was the necklace around her neck.
The gold filigree work of roses surrounding brilliant emeralds was instantly familiar to Priscilla; she had helped to pick it out on that long ago January day. Jarrod had been so happy to purchase the piece. She recalled how the lawyer had glowed over lunch, as he talked about how much joy the woman had brought back to his life, since his wife's death. It shocked her that the man could talk about his late wife, and this woman – a prostitute, in the same sentence.
"Rosemary, Noah was attacked! Is he all right?" Maisy's almost strident tone, the faint hint of a southern accent showing broke through Priscilla's shock at what she was coming to see. Jarrod had not only lied to her about Noah, and his grandmother – but also about the woman he was seeing.
Priscilla, on that January day in the jewelry store had discerned right away that Jarrod wasn't buying the necklace for a young woman like herself. No unattached woman could ever, in good conscience accept a gift like the piece of jewelry was. However she had heard talk at her grandmother's lunches and tea parties, that widows were given more freedom.
Numerous young women were married off, by doting parents, to older, well established men, for financial and societal advantages. The downside was oftentimes an early death for the husband, leaving a lonely, young widow behind. Priscilla had seen, from her vantage point at the parsonage, several young widows, who had already endured one forced marriage, not being keen to undertake another one.
At the time she had been very amused at Jarrod being made happy by a pretty young widow. She had shared the story with Nick, and he had wholeheartedly agreed with her. Nick had stated that this woman was just what his brother needed, and he hoped that it would all work out for the best. That thought came back to Priscilla, as she now realized that with Rosemary – what a name – no it could never work out for the best!
"Maisy let me examine him." The woman with the reddish gold hair stated, and Priscilla noticed how Maisy stepped back. Noah though was holding fast to Priscilla's hands, and she decided that she wasn't going to surrender authority to this woman. Instead she stayed quiet, as Rosemary examined Noah, noting how skillful and deliberate the woman was.
"Well he'll be fine, other than a nice shiner, but with boys it is always a badge of honor." Rosemary declared, and Priscilla noticed the smile and twinkle in her eyes. "We need to keep him quiet for a day or so, along with some chamomile tea." Priscilla recognized the remedy right away as what a good family doctor would prescribe. It made her even more curious about this woman, and where her knowledge came from.
"Rosemary, I'm going to go get a warming plate from Sadie, to help Noah sleep." Maisy stated. "I'll be right back." She added, before she left the room, her red bustled skirt swishing softly.
"Miss Converse...Miss" Noah's plaintive voice caused Priscilla to clasp his hand tighter. "Thank you Miss Converse, for saving me today." Priscilla smiled at him, and then told him to close his eyes and rest. It took only a few minutes for the boy to drift off to sleep.
While Noah fell into a deep sleep, Priscilla regarded Rosemary with wariness in her eyes. It was clear to Priscilla that the woman had a great deal of medical knowledge; also Maisy, the doting grandmother running the house of ill repute held her in high regard. Then there was the necklace that bore the tangible sign of Jarrod affections.
Jarrod had lied to her about Noah's circumstances, and living arrangement, as well as his unnamed lady friend! No wonder he couldn't bring her out in polite society because she was – ugh Priscilla shivered – a paid woman. Priscilla understood that a great deal of latitude was given in the west, because of the frontier. However, the fact that Jarrod was hiding her – so to speak – spoke volumes. Priscilla was aware of the expectations put on Jarrod – senator or governor at the least – all of which carried the expectation of solid, upright family life.
Those thoughts, along with the story that Nick had shared with her, about how Jarrod's first wife had died, jumbled in her head. Priscilla looked again at Rosemary, in her green silk dressing gown, the fabric highlighting the gold and emeralds of the necklace. The image came, unbidden, of Jarrod clasping the necklace around the white, swanlike neck, in an intimate setting.
That was juxtaposed against the stories she'd heard about the man's late wife, and how lovely she'd been. She remembered that Jarrod had told her that Beth – yes that was her name – had been a teacher, just as Priscilla was. The thought that she'd almost flirted with him over lunch, after their time in the jewelry store, made her want to retch.
Did Jarrod hold as low of regard of her, as he must of his late wife? That he would compare Beth to this prostitute, and then to compare Priscilla to Beth; agh! There was also the issue of his relationship with Mrs. St. Romaine, and the lies Jarrod had told, regarding Noah's living situation. It hit Priscilla that because of Jarrod's lies; she was now in a very precarious position.
How was she going to get out of this place, with no one seeing her? How was she going to be able to look at Jarrod again, knowing what she now did? As her stomach clenched so hard it almost hurt, Priscilla also wondered what she was going to say to Nick.
